Rethinking Education: What Seven Months of UK School Research Can Teach Pakistan (Part 3 — A Letter from the Future)

A Letter from the Future: A Student in 2040 Writes Back

Lahore, 12 March 2040
Dear Readers in 2025,

Assalamualaikum! My name is Zara Ahmed. I’m 13 years old and in Class 8 at Government Girls High School Johar Town. I was asked to write this letter as part of our weekly reflection class. Our teacher says someone in the past dreamed about this new kind of school I now go to. Was that you?

They told us that in 2025, a journalist travelled all across the UK to understand how schools could be better—and then wrote about how Pakistan might learn from it. You probably didn’t think someone like me would end up living in that world. But I do. And I want to tell you what it’s like.
My School Has a Garden. And It’s Not Just for Decoration.

We call it the “Sehat Bagh.” It’s our outdoor learning zone. We study science by growing spinach, tracking soil, and even measuring rainfall. Last month, we calculated the height of our neem tree using a mirror and trigonometry! (Seriously.)

It’s where we go when we feel stressed or bored. There are benches made from recycled bricks. Butterflies love it. So do we.
We Get Breakfast. Every Day.

You know what changed everything? Anda-paratha and chana-chawal at 8:00 a.m. sharp. I used to skip breakfast. So did half of my class. Now we eat together in the canteen, which is run by our mothers. The kitchen’s painted with our art and has rules WE made—like “don’t waste food” and “one smile per meal.”
We Talk About Feelings. Yes, Even the Boys.

Every Tuesday, we sit in a circle and talk. About school. About home. About what we’re scared of. Or excited for. Our teacher listens. Sometimes she shares too. I didn’t even know what “anxiety” was before. Now I can name it. And manage it. My brother’s school has the same thing. He says it helped him stop fighting.
My School Has Wi-Fi. And It’s Actually Useful.

Last week, I used my school tablet to design a poster on girls in science for International Women’s Day. My friend Ahsan used AI to create a flashcard game for his Urdu poetry homework. Our teachers were trained last year to use something called “blended learning.” It means we study from both books and apps. It’s not boring anymore.
We Elected Our Own “Mini-Parliament.”

We have a Student Council with a Prime Minister, Ministers of Environment, Sports, and even “Inclusion.” I’m the Education Minister. (Vote Zara!) We attend the monthly “Board of Voices” meeting with our headmistress, parents, and some aunties and uncles from the neighbourhood. They actually listen to us. We even decided how to spend our sports grant.
It’s Not Perfect… But It’s Ours.

Sometimes the internet goes out. Sometimes the ceiling fans break. Sometimes we argue about silly things in our Circle. But this school feels like home. It’s not just a place we’re taught—it’s where we belong.
A Final Message to You in 2025

Thank you. Thank you for imagining a better school for kids like me. Thank you for listening to ideas from other countries and not being too proud to learn from them. Thank you for writing things down. Because someone read your work. Someone pushed for a pilot project. Someone trained teachers differently. Someone funded meals. Someone believed we could be more.

I don’t know who you were. But you’re part of my story now. And someday, maybe I’ll be part of someone else’s.

With hope,
Zara Ahmed
Class 8, Lahore
A Dream Made Real

Postscript (From the Author in 2025):

Education is never just policy. It is poetry. It is infrastructure and imagination together. I’ve travelled the UK for seven months gathering evidence, but it’s voices like Zara’s—real or imagined—that make it all worthwhile.

Let’s invest in that future. Let’s write those letters forward.